


Ground Control

by amsay



Series: GCOF [2]
Category: South Park
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 07:13:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10508883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amsay/pseuds/amsay
Summary: Clyde doesn't react well to the news. Token just wants him to stop crying.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Given how much Clyde cries in the series, I figure it goes into adulthood.

Clyde Donovan had next to no control over his emotions. Perhaps that was one of the reasons why he and Craig Tucker had made good friends. They complimented each other, both on completely opposite planes of emotional existence. Where Token hadn't ever seen Craig shed a tear, Clyde cried at anything. And sure, maybe this was a good reason to cry, but Token couldn't do much in the ways of worrying while he sat in a coffee shop, Clyde bawling his eyes out like a three year old after a spanking. Token had wished that this wasn't how they found out, enjoying a nice cup of coffee and a bear claw at Starbucks, both browsing their phones only to have a news article pop up in their notifications. Nichole had tagged them both, along with a multitude of their other friends in it.

 

**"PLANE DISAPPEARS: TWELVE MISSING"**

 

Token had wondered why that was news to them, and had opted to read it later. But Clyde had looked into it, and thrust his phone into Token's face at the list of photos and names of those missing. Token's heart had sank to his gut as he'd seen them. It explained why they heard nothing from their friends when they were supposed to land. They didn't think much of it at the time, figuring they were busy. "Oh, fuck." Token said, taking the phone and looking at Clyde's face. "No, man, don't." His face was contorting into the way it did when Clyde was about to burst into uncontrollable sobs. Lip trembling, eyes scrunched, Adams Apple bobbing. Token knew the signs. Nothing could stop it though, and the wailing began. How could Token mourn the likely death of most of his closest friends while Clyde did this in a fucking Starbucks? Everyone was staring at them, and Token felt the blood run to his cheeks so strongly that they'd be able to see it under his dark skin.

 

"Clyde!" Token called out, reaching out to grab Clyde's wrist. "We're in a public place, man, fuck!"

 

When Clyde started wailing they were dead, Token had to forcibly remove him from the store, dropping several tens on the pick up counter as a tip to say sorry for his idiot friend. Outside of the store, Token grabbed Clyde by the shoulders and gave him a few rough shakes. "Calm down, Clyde!" His face was red, eyes already swollen and puffy. He looked like someone had killed his dog. And maybe it was worse than that. Maybe all their friends really were gone. But if there were no bodies found, which made them Missing, then maybe they were out there somewhere. Not that Clyde was thinking rationally. "What about Craig's Guinea Pig?! His dad is never gonna come home! I'm his parent now!" Clyde's voice was breaking between every word, high pitched. Token had trouble even understanding what the fuck he was crying about now. Something about Craig's pet.

 

"They're all dead!" Clyde sobbed again, and Token grabbed him by the elbow and tucked his head down to hide his embarrassment. He lead Clyde down the street, towards where his car was parked on the side of the road. Since Clyde was too busy freaking out to do anything for himself, Token had to open the door and shove Clyde in. Maybe he should have been more careful, but Token figured smacking his head into the door frame might help bring Clyde back down to some form of Chill. "What are you doing with that young man," some old white lady asked, and Token tensed up, back to her. For fucks sakes. A black man couldn't do anything without ridicule. "I'm taking him home," Token said, not bothering to look at her as he walked his way around the car to climb in the passenger seat. She began to protest, but Token slammed the door shut and pressed the button to turn on the car. In the small space, Clyde's crying was worse. The sounds bouncing off the walls of the car.

 

Token played with the idea of crashing it as he drove. Just to shut him up.

 

"They're not dead!" Token snapped, slamming on the breaks at a light and watched with small satisfaction as Clyde bounced forward, caught in his belt. It seemed to wind him, and for a moment Clyde stopped crying. He looked over at Token, sad, wet and confused. "They're missing, man, and you freaking out isn't gonna help 'em. I'll stay with you at Craig's and we'll figure this shit out." He had the funds to do so, pick up the slack the government would likely leave in their search to find them. It had been three days so far, and if they were alive, they were likely still kicking. Maybe not doing so well, and maybe not all of them were alive. But he needed to think of some positives, since Clyde was already to accept his Guinea Pig God Father duties and become Guinea Pig's primary parent.

 

Clyde continued to whimper pathetically for most of the drive to Craig and Token's apartment. Token simply turned up the music louder to try and drown him out, but fir every notch he turned the volume up, Clyde cried louder. Not wanting to be silenced, apparently.

 

\--

 

While they were away, Clyde had taken the great responsibility of tending to Tweek's plants and Guinea Pig. He took this very seriously. Craig rarely asked anyone to do anything for him. But now his responsibility multiplied by ten fold. He was Guinea Pig and Tweek's plants new dad. Token insisted they weren't dead, by Clyde was ready to prepare for the worst. Unlocking the door to Craig and Tweek's apartment, Clyde wiped his eyes free of tears to not alarm Guinea Pig. He didn't need to know his human father was gone. "I need to break the news to Guinea Pig that his dad may never come home!" Clyde could feel the tears come again, and Token gave him a stare like he was being an idiot.

 

Walking over to the cage, Clyde reached in and pulled Guinea Pig out and pressed him against his chest. He gave him some calming pats, and Clyde felt the need to be strong grow inside of him. If not for himself, then for this poor, innocent creature. "You know he has no clue what's going on, right? He probably doesn't even remember Craig anyway." Token said, taking a seat on Craig's shitty couch. Clyde looked down at the rodent, of which looked thoroughly offended that Token would imply he was stupid.

 

"If our friends are... are de-ah-ad," Clyde whimpered, "you're gonna feel like a complete asshole about being a dick!" Token held up his hands in protest. "I'm not being a dick, I'm being rational. We haven't even seen any updates on it yet. For all we know, they could be found already." Besides, they found out through the internet. Surely one of their parents or the authorities would have let them know if something was serious by now? Craig usually listed Clyde and Tweek as his emergency contacts, after all! Token was busy searching through his phone, trying to find more info, apparently. But Clyde took to his routine duties. Giving Guinea Pig a bit of a cuddle and maybe he gave him a few more treats than he was supposed to, but today was a rough day. Next came tending to Tweek's stupid array of succulents and herbs along with the two berry bushes out on the balcony. They didn't look like they were doing to well in the cold, Colorado March weather. Tweek had insisted they were fine when he left, though.

 

When Clyde returned to the living room, Token was on the phone. His face didn't look to good, and Clyde's heart sank. Token held up a hand as Clyde opened his mouth to ask, signaling for him to shut up. And for once, Clyde did, simply sinking into the crappy sofa beside him and tried to listen to the voice on the other end. Token hung up shortly after, and placed his head in his hands. "They don't know anything. Haven't found anything. It's like Malaysia 2.0."

 

Clyde felt his lower lip tremble, and Token noticed it as well. But he did nothing to stop the umpteenth round of Clyde's cries.

 

\--

 

Token stayed the next few days, worried that Clyde would do something stupid and jump off the balcony or something in one of his crying sprees. He'd worked tirelessly over the last couple of nights, talking to his parents about employing a private search and rescue team. The government would give up after a while, and Token had no desire to stop until bodies were found, dead or alive. Even just one. Hell, even the location of the plane crash would be a major help. They were somewhere between Cuba and Turks and Caicos. Clyde had pointed out that was in the Bermuda Triangle, and had gone on to research all sorts of conspiracies about it. Not helpful, but so long as he wasn't distracting Token with sobs, he couldn't care less what Clyde was doing. But it did narrow down their location to something fairly manageable.

 

Craig, Kyle, Wendy and the others had been gone a week and two days by the time Token's parents had paid up for the private search and rescue, stationed out of Florida. They'd also offered to fly Token and Clyde down there to work with them, be there if their friends were found. Token had taken the offer, as did Clyde but only after discussing with the airline what exactly he could bring as a carry on. If Guinea Pigs and a few of Tweek's more high maintenance plants were allowed. Considering the cost of the business class tickets, Token wasn't surprised when they didn't protest about it. TSA wasn't to fond of scanning through multiple plants, questioning Clyde on why exactly he needed to bring them to Florida. When he started crying again about them maybe being the last attachments he had to a friend lost in a plane crash, they shuffled them through fairly quickly.

 

Guinea Pig and Clyde were a hit with the flight attendants, though. Kept Clyde happy. And Happy Clyde meant Not Embarrassed Token.

 

When they'd gotten to Florida and checked into the hotel, the total time elapsed was one week and five days since they'd left. There was no sign of them, or the plane. The media had found out it was a Challenger 604, call sign Golf Charlie Oscar Foxtrot. Piloted by Captain Stan Marsh and First Officer Eric Cartman. Even not being present, not knowing these two guys, the media made them out as young, incompetent pilots. Blaming drugs or alcohol, probably, as the reason. The beginning of the Mayday call had also been released, broken and distorted before falling to silence. Despite the pilots being under fire, the CEO of the company, ColAir, insisted he only hired the best. That this horrific accident was surely not in error of his employees. Token wondered how much of it was genuine, and how much of it was saving his own ass from drowning.

 

While Token worked, Clyde...

 

Clyde took care of plants and a guinea pig, and browsed social media. Going through the profiles of their missing friends. He'd found the Facebook of First Officer Eric Cartman. Captain Stan Marsh was a ghost, no social media to be found. He found their flight attendant, Kenny McCormick. But what Clyde found searching though Kyle's Facebook, going through memories and photos years back was a bit interesting.

 

"Look," Clyde said, sitting beside Token on the hotel bed and showing his laptop. Open to a photo of Kyle in high school or something. Long before they knew him. Next to him stood a dark haired, blue eyed boy of the same age. They smiled for the camera, arms around each others waists. They wore nice clothes, looking like they were going to a school dance or something. "Okay?" Token said, confused as to why Clyde would show him Kyle's prom date or whatever. "Now look at this." Clyde held up the photo of Captain Stan Marsh that was going around the news and internet. Older, but eyes and smile still the same. "Where'd you find that?" Token asked, and Clyde explained. "Kyle's mom's Facebook." The caption read 'Kyle & Stan 2006'.

 

"Huh," Token stared down at the young, innocent face of his friend. And of what they were now very sure was Captain Marsh. "What a small, weird world."

**Author's Note:**

> Craig named his Guinea pig Guinea Pig and no one will stop this.


End file.
